


What Would You Say if I Said I Love You?

by IAmWhelmed



Category: Paranatural (Webcomic)
Genre: Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Nothing explicit, Romance, alcohol mention, drug mention, language warning, roommate au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-06-05 17:39:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6714538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmWhelmed/pseuds/IAmWhelmed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maxwell Puckett's sleazy roommate happens to be dating Isaac O'Conner- who finds out that said sleazy roommate is cheating on him with an unknown number of other men. Thus begins the story of how Isaac finds himself falling in love again, and Max finds himself falling in love for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> how about some maxaac with the "your roommate just cheated on me and I threw your laptop out the window thinking it was his" AU - Anonymous

Isaac bet that asshole would regret giving him a key to his house.

His bedroom was trashed, pillows torn in half, clothes with holes in them…

His blankets were in a pile among shoes and underwear that Isaac had never owned and damn well knew his sonofabitch ex never owned, stacked high in the small backyard. With a quick scratch or two against the box of matches, it was all on fire. Isaac watched the fire rise high and mighty with a sardonic grin on his face, fingers twitching to see if he could think of something else to do. 

Ah, right. Spray paint!

In big, red, bold letters, Isaac left the words “See You in Hell” on the wall right above the bed, letters dripping enough to give the message an especially eerie vibe. Isaac jumped off the side and gave the mattress a nice long line of red, enough to stain the mattress and leave it smelling like paint every time someone used it. If he wasn’t the only one sharing that bed, then neither of them would sleep in it. He cringed to think of all the others that sonofabitch might have had- how many times Isaac slept where another man had been moments before.

He felt stupid- completely and utterly ridiculous for ever letting down that wall. What happened to him? He used to be such a damn good kid. He used to have straight A’s. He used to do charity work for no reason.

For the last two years- two FUCKIN’ years- he spent his nights in the bed of a man that was never on time to pay his rent. He spent his weekends at dark parties with loud music and so much violence and alcohol it made his head spin. He’d drunken himself into a stupor. He’d woken up with the sheets on the floor and a bottle in the other hand. He hadn’t spoken to his friends at the shelter in fucking three months.

And somehow he’d never seen it.

He’d never seen the knowing grins that sonofabitch gave him when he got away with helping another ‘friend’ slip out the back door. He’d never seen the unfamiliar razors and the popped bottles of champagne in the trash, just because he didn’t want to.

Isaac inhaled sharply and stormed out the door of the bedroom, heading to the kitchen to close the drain and start running the sink. Once the sweet sound of running water hit his ears, Isaac felt at peace and ready to leave the home for the sonofabitch to find.

Almost.

His eyes fell on the laptop that sat at the counter near the fridge, and suddenly he knew there was just one last thing that he had to do.

 

“TAKE THAT YOU MOTHERFUCKING CHEATING ASSHOLE!”

Isaac howled in laughter as he watched the laptop crash off the lawn and bounce into the street, where oncoming cars then crashed into it and crushed it under the weight of metal and oil. “BET YOU’LL MISS YOUR PORN COLLECTION! YOU ASS!”

Finally, after days and weeks of crying into fruit salads and obsessing over his own body and thinking of the millions of ways he could have been a better boyfriend, the weight was gone. Just like that, the heaviness of every lie that dick ever told him, the guilt of feeling like it was all his fault- it was all gone. Isaac exhaled and leaned over the windowsill, letting the relief fall over him in wave after wave of emotional release. The tension in his muscles loosened enough that he felt normal.

That is, until he saw a car pull into the driveway.

It wasn’t the asshole’s, but it wasn’t any of the cars Isaac had seen parked a few yards away any of the times he was sure another man was there. That left the question begging- who the hell was pulling into the driveway?

 

Whatever Max was expecting to return to, it sure as hell wasn’t this.

The sink wasn’t quite yet overflowing, but it was filled to the top and wasn’t very far from leaving a giant mess on the kitchen floor. The TV was broken like glass, a heavy-duty hammer sticking out of the hole it’d left. From where he could stand, he could see the open bathroom door- which was off the hinges. The sink was knocked over and the shower curtain was half undone.

You know what? I’m willing to bet you…

A quick glance down the hall to his roommate’s open door proved his theory right. One of the many, many ‘toys’ his classy-as-hell roommate kept bringing around had finally found out about the other toys, subsequently destroying the house that they probably thought only he lived in. While Max was dreading the thought of cleaning all of this up, he couldn’t help but feel a little humored to see that his roommate would find the consequences of fooling around. Wait, if the sink hasn’t started overflowing yet…

They just did that a few minutes ago. They’re probably still here.

“You know, you can come out!” Max cupped a hand over his mouth and turned on his foot around the living room. “Personally, I think what you did was fucking hilarious, even if I’ve gotta clean it up. But that can wait until later, can’t it? I mean, guy’s gotta’ see it first.”

True to Max’s intuition, a man with the most stunning blue eyes he’d ever seen came to a stand at the foot of his roommate’s bedroom door. He was looking everywhere else but Max, dragging the toes of his shoes along the off-white carpet of Max’s less than spacious home. His white t-shirt was covered in red paint, decked in feathers. He seemed like the kind to have a perpetual frown on his face- exactly his roommate’s type, much to Max’s irritation. The poor guy standing before him was nothing but a challenge to the pinnacle of sleazy douches. The stranger messed with the small strands of his orange hair- the color of happiness. Max found that ironic. He shrugged and looked around the room, gesturing to the mess that was his home. “I take it you’re one of my roommate’s smarter ‘acquaintances’?”

“I didn’t know someone else lived here…” The stranger mumbled, messing with the belt loops of his pants.

“Yeah, that’s because he knows I’d kick his ass outta’ here if I ever got proof he was using my house as a meet-and-meat.”

“I was over here practically every day.” He was growing skeptical, his voice lowering a pitch or two. “How have I never seen you?”

Max shrugged. “What can I say? I hate him, too.”

“You called him your roommate earlier. Were you-?”

“Anything more? He tried, once, but I played the long distance relationship card and he bailed.” He didn’t have a long distance relationship, never had, but it kept the guy off his back. That was what was important.

The stranger rolled his eyes. “Oh, awesome. He respects other people’s relationships. Guess he’s not all that bad.”

Max laughed. It wasn’t often he found such scathing sarcasm in another human being, let alone in a lost soul who’d just happened to trash his house.

“What’s your name?”

“Isaac.” The answer was instantaneous.

Max smiled and took a few steps forward, offering a polite hand. “Max.” The stranger- sorry, Isaac- took his hand in a firm handshake, as though he was in some type of interview for some corporate job. That probably would have been an interesting story, somebody meeting their boss like this, but he was kind of glad that wasn’t happening. “Are you looking for a place to live, by any chance? I think I’ll be needing a new roommate by the end of tonight.” After all, Max was against workplace romances.

 

“Hey, Isaac?”

“Yeah?” The response came from behind the closed door to Isaac’s bedroom, freshly painted with the color of a mermaid’s lagoon in the dead of night. Max found it a suiting color for the odd man he’d gotten to know. Isaac did perpetually frown, but not because he was upset. It was a case of resting bitch-face, really, something Max was very well acquainted with.

“Sonofabitch”, as Isaac always referred to him, had moved out in a huff, tripping over his own shattered pride each step he took to his car. Max and Isaac watched him go, standing by the door as they waved him goodbye. Isaac had blown a kiss, which Max pretended to catch and crush right before “Sonofabitch’s” eyes.

Sometimes he heard Isaac venting about it over a phone call. It was his favorite story to tell. He shared it with anybody who’d listen. Usually Max could calm him down with some pressure to the shoulders, but other times (when they were throwing a party and everybody was already three sheets to the wind) he’d let Isaac loose. Those times were some of the most entertaining, because Isaac went into such great detail it was like walking into his trashed house all over again.

Isaac was a damn considerate roommate and a pretty good cook to top it off. The whole ‘vegan’ thing was kind of annoying, especially when they ordered out, but it wasn’t comparable to the nightmare that had been “Sonofabitch”. Isaac blasted his music, as loud as the speakers could go, but he’d never stayed up late unless it was a weekend. Max liked that about him. It wasn’t like they had wildly different tastes in music, either. He’d have never pegged Isaac for a metal fan, but he wasn’t going to complain.

“The day you moved in here…”

The music turned down ten volumes. “Yeah?”

“It wasn’t my laptop that I ran over when I pulled in, was it?”

There was silence. Max thought he wasn’t loud enough, which wasn’t a huge surprise considering Isaac was practically giving himself tinnitus. But then there came the simple, clear response.

“…Shit.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OMG THE ROOMMATES AU IS SO CUTE.... how about some of that where Max and Isaac start noticing each others cute habits and crushing and stuff :3:3 - Anonymous

Maxwell Puckett was the exact opposite of sonofabitch.

He didn’t drink unless they were having a party- and party, for him, meant small gatherings of close friends. When he did drink, he was a sleepy drunk. He passed out on Isaac’s shoulder and laughed at things Isaac said that weren’t jokes.

He was a liar when it maintained his ego. When Isaac finally decided to get back into the swing of things, which meant working hours for Charity, Max would tag along because he, quote, “had nothing to do”, unquote. At first, Isaac believed him. He was annoyed at Max’s reasoning, but another hand couldn’t have possibly hurt. Of course, seeing the way Max handled the children (with a smile on his face as he read to them in goofy voices, the way he cradled the infants in his arms with such care) left Isaac with a new understanding of his roommate. Part of Isaac recognized the feeling with a start, fear inching through his veins as logic began to sort out what it was he was feeling. He pushed that feeling out of his chest and continued on with his life, because he was being ridiculous- even if Max was clearly Daddy material.

Max took care of him while he was drunk, which was usually when he’d had a particularly bad night sleeping alone in his bed. Isaac would wake up on the couch with a bottle of water in one hand and a thick blanket over his body. The curtains would be closed and there’d be a healthy breakfast on the kitchen counter. Max was never around when he woke up with a hangover (which weren’t as bad as the ones he’d had while dating sonofabitch). He was always in his room, either fast asleep or playing skateboarding games on his new laptop- which Isaac had bought for him because he felt really really bad about throwing the first one into the street.

Max didn’t talk in his sleep, so much as hum and mumble. A few times, when Max was passed out in a chair on their small patio or on the couch, Isaac would catch him grunting and scrunching his nose with his head slowly descending to the side. As much as he felt creepy for it, Isaac would sit and stare at him, barley keeping his twitching fingers from running a soothing hand through Max’s hair. He’d get close- closer than would have been platonic had Max been awake- and wonder what Max would do next. One time, Max answered his question by roughly bumping heads with Isaac in his sleep. Didn’t wake up from it, either.

It was that one night, though, coming home from work that Isaac ran into Max watching his favorite movie- “When in Rome”. He sat down and joined him, not saying a word.

“I don’t like this movie” Max had mumbled, “I’m just watching it ‘cause I’m bored.” Isaac, of course, had been annoyed by his remark and elected to continue watching the movie instead of responding because the best way to upset Max was to watch the full movie without interruption. Around mid-way through the movie, there was a weight upon Isaac’s shoulder that hadn’t been there before. “This is going to sound stupid, especially coming from me” Max murmured into his shoulder “but I think things happen for a reason. Like, I think Sonofabitch was supposed to be my roommate, and you were supposed to date him, but only because you and I were supposed to meet. You are, like, the best roommate ever.”

Just like that, Isaac had become acutely aware of Max’s thigh borderline on top of his, their fingers brushing up against each-other’s, Max’s lips near his shoulder…

Just like that, the feeling came rushing in ten times stronger than it had been the first time.

 

Isaac made small, and Max never said this second adjective, adorable sounds when he watched romantic comedies. The first time he saw a kiss on screen, Max felt Isaac’s leg twitch beside his own, and he heard a low satisfied hum vibrate in Isaac’s throat. That, Max thought, is something I can get used to.

He wasn’t completely bat-shit crazy, like Max had originally been concerned about. After all, the guy did burn sonofabitch’s clothes and blankets inside the house. That was just kinda weird. Yes, Isaac talked to himself when he listened to his music, but Max was quickly becoming confident that Isaac couldn’t even harm a fly. At one point, when they took a walk around the corner to grab a bite to eat, Isaac had bolted across the way to pet a small labradoodle and coo at it while he scratched its chin. Max was just thankful the dog (and its owner) had already crossed the street. If that says ‘crazy psychopath’, then the world was way more dangerous than he thought.

Isaac was an amazing cook, and usually that meant the kitchen was a mess every time Isaac made a meal. That wasn’t the case. In fact, the guy was pretty damn clean- too clean, even. Max would leave the shower curtain pulled back when he left the bathroom, and come back seconds later to find it pulled closed again. It was nice, being picked up after for a change instead of chasing after his stupid fucking ex-roommate who couldn’t throw his beer bottles away.

Isaac made it a point to pick up pennies that were heads up, commenting that they were lucky pennies and the world wanted him to have that penny for a reason. “Otherwise”, he said, “I could find somebody to return it to”.

(When the penny wasn’t heads up, Isaac would turn it heads up for the next person who finds it.)

Isaac liked to pose shirtless in the bathroom mirror in the dead of night. The first time Max saw him doing so, he’d woken up in his bedroom with a monstrous headache and a growling stomach that wouldn’t settle. Around three in the morning, Max skulked out to the kitchen across the way. He passed the bathroom on the way, but was way too tired to think about the thing he’d seen moving out of the corner of his eye. He’d made himself some ramen in a Tupperware container and began the short journey back to his room. He’d shoved a few forkfuls in his mouth by the time he passed the bathroom again, leaving him much more awake than he had been before. 

On his second time passed the bathroom door, he’d just happened to glance in the direction of the open door. What he saw was shirtless Isaac, ‘flexing’, and pouting like he hadn’t yet achieved his flexing goal. Max nearly spit out the noodles, some strands falling down his chin and back into the container. Max wanted to say he was humored and that the scene was hilarious. He wanted to say that he teased Isaac about it for a good week afterward- but he didn’t.

He sat there and stared at Isaac’s chest, eyes trailing over his toned body. He had freckles on his arms and occasionally on his chest, but his skin looked smooth and soft and red because Isaac was straining his muscles to look good in the mirror. Max swallowed whatever the hell it was he was feeling and strutted back to his bedroom without a word to his roommate.

Isaac was an affectionate drunk. No, he didn’t throw himself at Max and say things or ask for things that they’d both regret come sunrise, but he was touchy-feely. Nights where it was just himself and Isaac, the two would have a beer or two together. Some nights Isaac was drunk by the third one. He’d cling to Max’s arm and dig his face into Max’s neck, mumbling ‘thank you’s and reminiscing about the few good times he and sonofabitch had shared. Max would never admit it, but he hated hearing Isaac talk about the ex. It pissed him off for some odd reason.

but then Isaac would go on different tangents. He’d say odd things like “I don’t want to sleep alone, Max” and “I’m so happy with you”. Max always felt weird hearing Isaac say stuff like that. Maybe he even felt good hearing that?

By the end of the night, Max would carry Isaac on his arm and toss him onto the couch, stealing the thickest blanket he could find and throwing it over his roommate. Isaac would tug on his arm and ask him to tuck the blanket in, and Max would. He’d tuck it under Isaac’s body, fingers grazing his back and legs but not his arms. Definitely not the arms, because then Max would hand him a water bottle and flick his nose. “Drink some of this before you pass out, you lightweight.” The last time that happened, Isaac pulled Max’s hand back and pressed a light kiss to the knuckles.

“Thank you so much, for everything” he’d said with a color in his cheeks “living with you- it means the world to me.”

Max then went to his room and screamed into his pillows, because he was finally falling in love and it hurt like a bitch.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ohh I like roommate AU!! what about some drama where sonuvabitch comes back for Isaac and he has some conflicting emotions since in my opinion Isaac would probably think that he didn't deserve any better. Low self esteem and such. And Max would just be doing everything to stop them from getting back together. So much angst possibilities!! (-u-) - Anonymous

This was the worst Max had ever seen him- drunk enough to have blacked out an hour ago. He wasn’t talking like he usually did. He wasn’t reaching out and grabbing Max’s arms or hugging him or kissing his hands or thanking him for whatever the hell Isaac thought he’d done. He was curled up on his bed with his legs crossed and his head in his hands. Max stood at the doorway with a bottle of water and some aspirin, since he wasn’t sure if Isaac was coming down or not.

“He emailed me.”

“That’s not very romantic.”

Isaac didn’t respond. He only let one hand fall limp to the bed as though he’d suddenly lost feeling in it. Max was vaguely worried that he had. He came to sit at the foot of the bed, setting the glass and the aspirin on the desk. “He wants me back.”

“Tell him to shove it up his ass.”

“I can’t.”

Max took a deep breath and glanced at the ceiling. 'This is gonna be a fun conversation…'

“What do you mean you can’t? He cheated on you with, like, nine different guys.“

Isaac let his other hand fall so he could look up at Max with bloodshot eyes. His face was pale, pale enough that his skin lit up in what little moonlight found its way through his open blinds. Max gulped back whatever quip he’d thought he’d had ready, feeling something akin to anxiety rising in his chest. “Did I ever tell you how we met?”

“I didn’t think it mattered.”

Isaac grimaced and gazed at his lap. “I fucked over a friend of mine. Didn’t really mean to. He was in a- a long term thing with this girl, and he really liked her. Thought they’d get married. Got drunk one night and kissed this other girl, he told me about it, and I promised I’d never say a word to his lady but I did. I blabbed. She left him, they had this huge fight, he hated me…” Isaac paused and readjusted himself so that one leg was pulled to his chest. “I mean, I’ve got a lotta’ shit going on with my family. Have for years. This guy knew about all of it and he was the only friend I’d ever had and then I fucked up and lost him- and then he swooped in and picked up all of those pieces and helped me forget all of that shit.”

“That wasn’t him being nice, Isaac. That was him preying on you like you’re a goddamn doe.”

“Well it worked, because he’s the only guy that’s ever even pretended to love me or care about me or…” He trailed off, voice cracking under the weight of each word. It was probably the first time he’d said any of that out loud. Max felt something tighten in his chest, like there was a rope around his heart that’d been hanging loose in his chest, only for somebody to tighten the knot. His fingers messed around in the sheets of the bed, tangling in the cloth so he had something to hold.

“And you don’t think you deserve better than him?”

Isaac shivered and leaned forward so that his forehead fell against his knee. He shook his head. “I’m a fuck-up. I spent all that time worrying about how he could possibly wanna be with me and I never believed him-”

“You shouldn’t have-”

“I pretty much forced him to cheat on me. I kept expecting it from him but when it finally happened I didn’t wanna see it. This is my fault.”

“Oh, god, Isaac no.”

“I should have been more confident.”

“Okay, well are you more confident now?”

“No.”

“Then why the hell would you take him back? What I’m hearing is that you’re not ready for a relationship yet. If you’re not ready to love yourself- if you’re going to assume every damn guy is going to cheat on you- then why would you put yourself through that?”

Isaac looked up at him, then, with wide eyes and hot air pouring past his lips. The hand that’d fallen to the blankets reached up at gripped Isaac’s knee, squeezing. Max mustered up what little willpower he had and forced a smile on his face.

That was right. Isaac wasn’t ready for a relationship yet. He was still nursing his wounds- wasn’t even ready to stand on his own yet. 'Deciding to not take that asshole back is the first step…' Max leaned closer, using the hand at Isaac’s knee for balance. “You can’t break down like this every time you break up with someone. You’ve gotta stand on your own two legs before you find a partner for the three-legged race.” He didn’t know why he felt so disappointed. It wasn’t like he’d planned on putting the moves on Isaac, anyway; Isaac didn’t show interest when he was sober. He’d probably known that Isaac wasn’t in any place to be with him. He’d probably known Isaac needed to be alone for a while. With some irritation, Max realized he’d still had hope that they could be something more. Now that hope was shriveling up and dying, an ant under a magnifying glass. 'You can mope about it later. Right now, Isaac needs you to anchor him.'

Isaac gave him a smile, a twinkle of joy somewhere in his eyes. That was a relief- a view of the sober Isaac in an otherwise emotional situation. Max let go of the deep breath he’d taken, suddenly acutely aware that his hand was still on Isaac’s knee. He went to move it, only for Isaac to grab it by the length of his fingers. Max laughed to himself, watching as Isaac brought his knuckles to his lips and kissed them for the millionth time. It was becoming just another thing Isaac did when he was drunk, as normal as dancing on counters or falling over.

He leaned in to give his drunk roommate an awkward hug, squeezing Isaac’s hands in the one they held. He figured it was the best thing he could do, given the situation. He wasn’t much of a hugger, but he had a feeling Isaac was. It was partly why he was fascinated so; Isaac was everything he wasn’t- affectionate, heroic, emotional… “God, you are so worth waiting for.” He’d said it quietly, so softly that he’d almost thought the words hadn’t left his throat, but one of Isaac’s hands reached up and gripped the back of Max’s neck like a claw. The two fell to eye-level, Max equally surprised and nervous and Isaac looking oddly hypnotized.

He wasn’t sure which one of them made the move first, but he knew that they kissed. It wasn’t anything wildly inappropriate- their tongues remained in their mouths- but it was passionate. Max felt the hand at his neck run up and massage his scalp, rendering him breathless as Isaac ran smooth circles in his hair. He hesitated, but eventually reached up to cup Isaac’s face in one hand, running his thumb along Isaac’s cheekbones as though mimicking Isaac’s fingers. Isaac wrapped his arms around Max’s neck, leaning up so that Max wouldn’t need to lean so far over- meeting him in the middle, really.

Isaac tasted like beer, more than likely what he’d been drinking earlier. Kissing Isaac felt fulfilling, as though their lips fit perfectly and melding together was like finding the right cog to get everything working again. His lips were chapped as hell and his hands were freezing, but Max had never enjoyed kissing anybody the way he enjoyed kissing Isaac. Feeling his fingers work circles into his neck, other fingers tangling in what little hair he had, was mind-boggling. It was everything he’d imagined a kiss from Isaac to be.

Still…

Max pulled away, pride rising in his chest when Isaac followed him up with eager lips. He shook his head and tore his hand from Isaac’s knee to push his shoulder back, leaving Isaac lying flat on the bed. Max got up and grabbed the glass of water and aspirin, moving them so that they sat on Isaac’s nightstand instead. “Let’s hope you forget that when you’re sober tomorrow morning.”

Isaac rolled onto his side and watched Max walk over and close the blinds, a small smile tugging at his lips. He thought about tucking Isaac in, but he didn’t really think he had the willpower to refuse if Isaac tried to continue whatever the hell it was they’d been doing. Max avoided eye-contact as much as humanly possible on his way out the door, leaving Isaac’s room with a small wave.

Once he was in the kitchen, he cracked open the bottle of vodka that sonofabitch left behind when he was hurried out the front door- the front door he would never, ever step through again unless Max was dead and long gone first.

Here was to hoping he’d drink enough to forget the night.

 

If Isaac remembered anything but Max’s advice, he didn’t say anything about it. He’d texted Sonofabitch first thing in the morning with a text that was, in its entirety, dismissive. “What did you say?”

“I don’t know. Don’t care, either. Something about him finding himself a nice pony to ride because the prize-winning horse left the stable or something.”

“What the fuck?” Max broke out into belly-aching laughter, tossing his head back enough to hit it on the fridge behind him. Isaac rolled his eyes and smiled, taking a long gulp of his third glass of water.

“Yeah, yeah. It sounds pretty damn stupid-”

“You told him to ride a fucking pony-”

“But I think I got my point across.”

“What the fuck?”

Isaac tossed the bottle of aspirin at Max’s head with as much force as he could muster, missing his target by an inch. Max got the hint and made a valid effort to stifle his laughter. He shot Isaac an apologetic smile and continued preparing some soup. Soul food, he thought. Probably won’t help his raging headache, but it’ll probably cheer him up.

“Here, let me help.”

“No, dude seriously, I’ve got this.”

Isaac stood from his seat at the counter and went around to grab some spices from the cabinet. Max moved away, trying to keep the spoon out of Isaac’s grasp when he reached for it. “Max, just let me-!”

“You’ve got a hangover! Sit the hell down-!”

The pot went flying off the stove as Isaac fell face-first into Max’s chest, sending them both into the counter behind them. The pot hit the ground with a loud bang, soup flying and spilling all over the floor, counter, and even the ceiling. Max, albeit at first distracted by the pain in his lower back, grimaced at the mess. “See? This is why you listen, Isaac, listen to people when they say they don’t need help!”

“Well sorry! I just felt bad because you put up with me last night! I figured the least I could do was…” Isaac trailed off, leaving Max waiting for him to finish talking so he could retort with something divinely clever and witty. When Isaac’s quiet voice didn’t grow again, Max turned his gaze from the mess that was the soup on the floor to his roommate’s head at his chest.

What he found was Isaac’s wide eyes locked on his, as though he’d suddenly seen something new on Max’s face. Max raised a cautious hand to his cheek, thinking that there might have been soup all over his face that he hadn’t felt before. There was none. He glanced back down at Isaac, who’d stayed perfectly still, with a raised brow. Isaac’s hands audibly squeaked against the counter the tighter his hold got, lips parting to say whatever the hell it was he wanted to say. “Max…”

“Yeah?”

Isaac straightened up, subsequently leaning closer to Max’s face. Max swallowed hard, but kept his wit. Isaac had never shown interest while sober- he wouldn’t start now. Even so, Isaac got close enough that their noses touched, close enough that Max was starting to doubt every qualm he had about the situation. Isaac’s wide eyes narrowed more and more until they were completely closed, parting his lips in what appeared to be an invitation.

Of course Max had his doubts about kissing Isaac again- very little had changed between the night before and then. So maybe Isaac wasn’t drunk anymore. Maybe Isaac’s scummy ex wasn’t weighing over his shoulders anymore, but Isaac still wasn’t completely independent and Max damn well knew that. That kind of change was going to take awhile, but he was willing to wait for it to happen. He’d decided that on whim last night, without any consideration. It was how he- Max internally cringed- felt.

Max sighed and pulled away- not by much, just a few centimeters. “Isaac, listen.”

The doorbell rang.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> omgee aaahhh that roommate au is so good! how about like after that and Isaac would probably think that max was mad at him... and/or he'd be really embarrassed and think max was rejecting him... - Anonymous

He hadn’t imagined that, right?

It wasn’t some beer-induced fever dream, it couldn’t have been. The memory was too real. He hadn’t quite remembered that it’d happened, not until he was practically holding Max in his arms again, but he knew it had. He remembered the feel of Max’s lips, warm against his own, Max’s hand holding his head still. He even remembered every kind word Max shared, probably in hopes that he wouldn’t remember it was Max saying those things to him and not some hallucination of a benevolent mermaid princess.

What he remembered more than anything, the thing that got his heart racing because there’s no way he could have thought of it on his own, was Max’s face when they’d parted. In the moonlight, his skin had almost looked blue, cheeks bright and hot. Max’s gaze, at that moment, had been something soft and, dare he think it, romantic. That look was real- it happened.

He never would have thought Max was capable of looking like that.

Isaac had woken up feeling, albeit hungover, refreshed and confident. He’d taken one look at sonofabitch’s email and sent him a quick response; “Go find another prize-winning horse to tote around like it’s yours. We’re done here. Don’t email me again.”

When he’d strutted out of his room, having taken the aspirin and downed the glass of water in seconds, he glanced at the digital clock sitting idly on the coffee table of the living room. 12:00 PM. One look to his right gave him the view of Max in an apron, stirring what smelled like chicken noodle soup. Not surprising, given the whole “I want you back” debacle that he’d hardly remembered at the time.

Then one thing led to another, he remembered the night before, he’d leaned in to kiss him again…

And Max stopped him.

Granted, yes, the doorbell had rung and had turned out to be important because Isabel showed up with some documents for Isaac’s mentor’s new case, but they didn’t talk about it afterwards and that bothered him. It wasn’t like Max had tried to push him away, so then why-?

Was he trying to be nice? Did he think flat-out rejecting Isaac would have hurt him as bad as sonofabitch (not possible), so he avoided it altogether?

No, he was trying to say something earlier.

Isaac glanced up at Max from his seat on his bed, eyeing him through his wide open door. Max stood at the counter of the kitchen, glancing over his emails from his phone. The only empty plug in the house was at the edge of the counter near the door to the patio, something Isaac usually despised about living there. But, as of the moment, he had those plugs to thank for his view of his roommate.

Max’s eyes were narrowed, eyebrows hitched as though he couldn’t be looking at anything duller than every email he opened. Isaac’s gaze traveled from his face to his shoulders (which he vaguely remembered holding in his hand), to his chest (he remembered feeling his heartbeat), to his feet which were tapping rhythmically to whatever song Max was playing through his headphones.

Isaac’s fingers tapped along the edges of his new documents, a small outlet for his craving to touch Max- grab his hand, lean his head on his shoulder, anything. But he couldn’t quite do that not knowing what Max was feeling, right? Just take the time to think about this calmly, Isaac.

Scenario one: Max was upset with him, for an unknown reason. This scenario wasn’t entirely unlikely. Isaac had been completely wasted last night. The chances of him saying something insensitive or rude were pretty high. What if he’d wanted to move too fast? Maybe Max was looking for more than a hookup and thought Isaac wasn’t? Well, that was the near opposite of the truth, so Isaac doubted that. From what Isaac remembered, the kiss was utterly breathtaking and hair-raising, so there was no way he’d made a snide comment about Max being horrible at kissing. Maybe he’d passed out in the middle of the kiss? No, Max certainly wouldn’t have held that against him.

Scenario two: A little more painful than the last- Max wasn’t interested. Isaac had been the one to start the kiss and now Max was trying to keep his distance. Yep, that hurt about as much as Isaac thought it would. He swallowed that emotion. After all, he wasn’t sure why Max had dodged that kiss earlier, there were still options he hadn’t explored.

Scenario three: Max was embarrassed. He hadn’t brushed his teeth yet, he wasn’t feeling well… Maybe he was more confident when Isaac was drunk? Less room for error, on his part.

Hmm, no.

Scenario four: Max was annoyed enough with Isaac for spilling the soup all over their kitchen- too annoyed to be anything but cynical. Isaac shrugged. That would have been plausible, had Max mentioned the almost-kiss after he’d cooled down. But no, not even a glance in his direction.

Scenario five: Max was already seeing someone. Isaac dropped the thought immediately. No, that was the ‘cheated on’ Isaac that was talking. He might have been drunk, but Max had been sober. If Isaac had learned one thing in the three months he’d lived with his roommate, it was that Max took promises seriously. A committed relationship was a promise, of sorts, by default. (Then again, Max had mentioned a ‘long distance relationship’ when they first met? Oh, no, wait, he’d also mentioned it was to get sonofabitch off his back). Was he interested in someone else? Isaac didn’t really have any observations to back that up. Max might have been a private person, but he was also an easily-read person. Max’s coworkers, when they’d last gotten together, probably would have teased Max about a certain ‘partner’ they all worked with.

Scenario six: Isaac froze, eyes falling over his roommate’s face again as he scrolled through what few apps he owned. This scenario, although the most likely, hurt the worst; Max had kissed him and realized Isaac wasn’t quite good enough for him.

It wasn’t like it hadn’t happened before. Isaac had found himself the victim of an unrequited love more times than was probably the social norm. Now that he thought about it, Max had been exceptionally caring- but that was only in comparison to what Isaac was used to. He hadn’t necessarily been interested at all. Sonofabitch had always mentioned that Isaac was more affectionate when he’d had a few drinks, maybe he’d launched that kiss all on his own- just because? Maybe Max was being distant because Isaac had picked up on the wrong signals and he wanted to stop things from being awkward? Maybe Max was trying to be supportive but didn’t know how to be anymore, now that Isaac had practically jumped his lips?

Everything felt numb, then, and Isaac felt his crossed legs fall over the sides of his bed. Numbness. Well then, maybe he hadn’t really liked Max at all? Maybe he just had some odd form of Florence Nightingale Syndrome? That sounded about right. After all, Max had pretty much saved him from his horrible relationship- twice- and then offered him a home and then took care of him whenever he was intoxicated. Yep, that sounded about right. Isaac hadn’t really been falling for Max. It was all just a big misunderstanding.

He’d be fine if Max wasn’t into him. He’d be fine if Max wanted somebody better. He’d be fine if Max wanted to be friends and nothing more because that’s really all Isaac wanted, even if he hadn’t known it. He’d carry on like normal- go to work, come back, make dinner, maybe invite some of their mutual friends over- and do it again and again and again until he knocked himself out of whatever syndrome he had. He and Max would be back to normal in no time, and they’d never speak a word of it again.

There was a tug in Isaac’s chest, but he ignored it.

“Hey, Max?”

Max glanced up from his phone, eyes wide (that’s not happiness you’re seeing, Isaac, he’s just surprised) as he tore it from the charger and tucked it away. “What’s up?”

Isaac opened his mouth, closed it, swallowed, and gave Max the sincerest smile he could manage. “I’m probably going to be in the office working late tomorrow, so you’ll wanna feed yourself.”

Max nodded. “Thanks for the heads up. Think you’ll be home in time to watch Deadpool? I mean, I’ve seen it but I know you haven’t. Ed and Johnny are dropping by to see it.”

With a hand on his doorknob and the most fake damn smile Isaac had ever stretched his lips to make, he said “no, but thanks anyway” and closed the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the roommate au: Max and Isaac waking up next to each other. Not in a sexual way, just in a "what the hell happened" way. - Anonymous

Max’s head was absolutely fucking killing him.

His stomach was churning and rising in his chest, begging for him to throw up- throw up what? What did he eat last night?

Oh god, what did he do last night?

Slowly, with as much caution as he could possibly muster with a headache from hell beating the back of his head like giant bells, he opened his eyes. It was obnoxiously sunny out, bright as though he’d opened the gates of heaven and seen nothing but a collection of stars- not as pretty as it sounded. Whatever he was laying on wasn’t soft, so he assumed it wasn’t his bed. In fact, it felt uncomfortably similar to bricks. God, was he sleeping on a pile of bricks? Where was there a pile of bricks? How did he find one and why did he decide to sleep on it? Whatever, it didn’t matter.

Not as much as seeing Isaac across from him did. 'Oh please don’t tell me I did him last night…'

Isaac seemed to be in the throws of fighting off the same headache, blinking and sneering and shielding his eyes with his arms- arms with sleeves on them. Isaac was dressed. Max exhaled and glanced down at his own body.

He was not.

Well, he kinda was. He was wearing what appeared to be a loin cloth and a pair of feminine fur boots, but little else aside from maybe what felt like an empty beer bottle on his finger. Max groaned and sat up, immediately feeling something warm and wet drip down his arm. He grimaced. Never mind, beer bottle hadn’t been empty. One glance at Isaac proved that he had been just as drunk the night before. While he wore a shirt, he wasn’t wearing pants, leaving him in nothing but white briefs. Max bit back a chuckle. There was, what Max hoped was, red paint all over his legs. Some were pictures of phallic symbols with monocles and cigars. Other pictures were crudely drawn hearts and arrows. Upon closer inspection, there was one right upon Isaac’s lower thigh with unrecognizable initials signed on the inside.

“Holy shit, Max, are we on the fucking roof? Why are we on the roof?”

Once he’d gazed at their makeshift beds and clarified that they were, indeed, on the roof, he shrugged. “From what I remember, we climbed up here to get away from… something.” For the life of him, he really couldn’t remember what. He had some vague memories of feeling claustrophobic, Isaac asking him what’s up, them climbing to the roof…

It wasn’t until Isaac pulled away that Max realized he and Isaac had been holding hands, and it wasn’t until Isaac pulled away that Max realized he was climbing over the side of the roof. “Holy shit, Isaac! What are you doing? We’ve got a latter right-!” He reached out and grabbed Isaac’s arm, sliding down a little further than he would have liked. His less-than-talkative roommate didn’t really respond, his attention drawn somewhere else.

Once Max slid down far enough, he could see exactly what had Isaac’s attention. The entire back yard, however small it may have been, was covered in people, confetti, and various fluids (drinks, puke, water that had been ice, some others…). Among the random strangers were their friends, scattered like a bad dice roll. Ed was conked out across a tree trunk, arm limp but still holding onto that entire bottle of vodka. Isabel was floating face-up in their small pool, legs hanging off the raft she’d probably only half filled up. Johnny was literally on top of what Max could vaguely remember had been a bonfire pit. He was face-down with his shirt tied around his waist and one pant leg torn completely off. Violet was snoring, oblivious to being practically strangled by Cody and Jeff, who were fast asleep on either side of her. Lisa had commandeered the patio furniture (a small table with an umbrella and two chairs) to build some sad small fortress in which she’d stacked empty beer bottles into a pyramid. She was conked out against the flipped table.

“Good lord,” he heard Isaac mumble, his hands reaching up and tugging at what little hair he could pull. “Max, what the fuck?”

“From what I remember, this party was your idea.”

“Well from what I remember, you’re the one who decided to invite RJ. You know, like you weren’t aware they’re always carrying fucking drugs and shit!”

“Well sorry, mister ‘we should invite Johnny who is literally known to light houses on fire to a shitting bonfire’!”

“He wouldn’t do that while we were in the house!”

“Maybe if he hadn’t indulged in cocaine!”

Isaac sighed and started crawling toward the ladder on the other side of the house, hardly managing to stay upright even on his hands and knees. Max followed him- certainly not because he was terrified of falling off the roof like he had that one time in the fourth grade. He just wanted to continue his argument with Isaac. That’s all.


	6. Chapter 6

He couldn’t be jealous. That wasn’t fair to himself or to Max or to the arguably-riddled-with-STD’s man sitting practically on Max’s lap. He was a smaller man with curly blonde hair and a sleazy smile stretching as wide as his history of sexual encounters. _He would know what he’s doing, I guess._ Isaac wanted to be, he really really wanted to be, but he couldn’t be jealous. He’d decided to give Max up. Max wasn’t interested. He couldn’t keep pursuing him and that sure as fuck meant he couldn’t get between Max and the very likely probability that he’d get the clap.

He watched from the edge of the hallway, peeking out from behind the wall. Had it been bright outside, his hiding spot probably would have been obvious, but it was nighttime (one of the things that tipped Isaac off about exactly what Max and his experienced suitor were doing) and the only light in the room was coming from the TV. Max hadn’t seemed to notice him, and neither had the stranger. Isaac sat fuming silently, eyes narrowed at the pale white hand running up and down Max’s thigh. Next thing he knew, the sleazy motherfucker would be straddling Isaac’s damn roommate and the love of his damn life! Max looked down at the hand and, for a moment, Isaac became optimistic that he would move away from it. Instead, Max stared down at the hand with an arched brow.

The stranger leaned over and whispered in Max’s ear, biting his bottom lip and squeezing Max’s leg. Much to Isaac’s dismay, Max’s cheeks turned bright red as he looked between the possible hooker at his side and the movie they were watching.

It wasn’t like it was even cheated-on Isaac talking. Over the last few months, he’d become pretty confident. He went out and turned guys down at the bar, drank less, ate healthy, exercised… He was a very different person compared to the guy who’d tossed his new roommate’s laptop out the window and into the road. A lot of it was thanks to Isabel and Ed and Cody and Violet and Jeff and Lisa, because they were the best friends he’d ever had, but Max was at the very top of his list. He put up with him on the nights he was too drunk to move and the nights he cried himself to sleep. He made Isaac laugh and he made fun of him and took him down a notch when he needed it- he was the reason Isaac was in a good place.

It just sucked so damn hard that Max didn’t want him. If he was honest, he was almost mad at Max for it, even though he shouldn’t have been. Max had the right to not love him like that. Hell, he should have gotten a medal for not being weird about their kiss a few months back. Did it hurt that they had to stay friends? Yeah, it hurt quite a bit and it kept him awake some nights, but he wasn’t going to drag their relationship through the mud because he couldn’t not love him.

Isaac watched with wide horrified eyes as Max leaned over and reached for the remote, pointing it at the TV and turning it off. It left the room pitch black, aside from what little moonlight came in through the blinds over their sliding glass door. He could vaguely see their silhouettes fall over the couch, the promiscuous stranger on top. Isaac literally bit his hand to keep from screaming. _Deep breaths, Isaac. Deep breathes…_

Slowly, he slid up the wall from his seat on the carpet, swallowing whatever it was stinging in his throat. The sounds he was hearing (obligatory kissing noises, moaning, zippers, etc.) didn’t make things any easier on him. It was probably for the best that he retreated to his room at the end of the hallway and blasted his music for a good- as he’d always imagined it- two hours or so. Isaac turned around and crept back to his room, leaving the very obvious explicit noises behind.

 

The lights came on, leaving Max and his suitor to scramble to make themselves presentable, almost like baby spiders running and scattering away from their stepped-on mother. Isaac pretended to not see them, taking his plastic blue cup and setting it on the counter. With his back turned to the living room, he opened the fridge, grabbed a new liter of soda, and took it over to his cup where he then proceeded to pretend to have some serious trouble opening it. Once, twice, three times he pretended to try twisting the top off. Then he took the edge of his shirt and pulled it over the top, pretending to try try and open it that way. Oh- did he get it? Ah, no. Oh! Did he get it now- oh wait, nah. He could practically feel the awkward sexually-repressed stares at his back.

Once he actually twisted the top off, he poured himself a nice- very tall- glass of soda. It was so tall, in fact, that he accidentally made a mess and made it overflow. Oh well. He slid to the drawer beside the stove, reaching in and taking a cloth that he knew damn well had holes in it. He slid back over to the mess, which was then dripping over the counters and onto the floor, and failed at cleaning it up with the torn rag he’d selected. He made a show of shrugging and sliding back over to grab another cloth, one he knew was too thin to do the job. Once he’d milked that one for all it was worth, he grabbed six pieces of paper towels- individually- and just used those.

Once he’d cleaned up his accidental intentional mess, he grabbed his cup and started on his way back to his room- oh wait, but he was kind of hungry, and soda did go better with chips. He turned back around and set the cup back on the counter, opening the cupboards where they kept the snacks. He only ever ate one brand of chips, but he still stood there in mock contemplation anyway. He heard the stranger cough and shuffle on the couch behind him, probably a silent way of trying to get his attention. Isaac pretended not to hear it, reaching out and grabbing the same chips he always ate. Oh, hmm… He set them back down and reached for the vegan cookies. Oh, but those were better with milk- not soda. He reached for the chips again. He did want something sweet, though. He reached for the cookies. But it really was such a waste to eat them without milk. He grabbed the chips and closed the cabinet.

He grabbed his soda again and carried on his way back to the room, but then he heard his phone buzz. _Oh my god, perfect._ He paused and set his cup down again, reveling in the annoyed grunts and sighs he heard from the couch. It was just a message from Cody, something about the release of an anime for their shared favorite manga, but it needed replying to right then and there. He typed out the message instead of just using the voice texting, which was what he usually did. He made sure to really stress how happy he was with lots of sentences and emojis. He was so excited, in fact, that he decided to forward it to literally everybody he’d ever known who liked anime ever. He had them all in a group chat at one point, but he figured it would be best to message them all individually. Once he was done sending out every single message, he decided to check his email. Once he checked his email, he opened up other messages that he’d received months ago and never responded to, and then responded to them.

He honestly wasn’t sure what he was trying to do. Was he trying to piss Max off? Maybe. Was he trying to keep them from having sex at all? Probably. Would it work? Isaac pretended to see them on the couch for the first time, clothes messed up and hair tangled and sweaters on the floor. Something in him twisted and churned. He felt like throwing up, like all of the tears he was holding back were now filling his stomach with all of the bitterness and salt he was feeling. He could have been mature about it. He could have waited until Max and his sleazy-as-all-hell “friend” were done messing around to try and talk to Max about what he was feeling, but he didn’t.

Isaac mustered up what little courage he had left, rode on its fleeting curtails, and smiled at them. “Sorry! I didn’t realize you guys were out here. I’ll be out of your hair in a sec.”

He avoided finding Max’s gaze with his own, keeping his head down as he carried his stuff back to his room.

He shut the door behind him softly, but he fell against it like dead weight as he slid down to the floor. It probably wasn’t a good idea to leave his soda on the floor without a top or something, but he just really didn’t care. He reached out for his headphones and clicked them into his phone, sticking them in his ears so far he would have thought he was going to touch his brain. In he had to go deaf, it couldn’t hurt to never hear Max with anyone else again.

 

He woke up to someone knocking on the door, banging away like it was important, but not important enough to be an emergency. He sat up straight and pulled away from the door, careful to move the soda onto the corner of his desk, before giving the plugs in his ears a firm tug.

“Isaac?”

“Yeah?” His own voice was so small it felt foreign coming from his mouth.

Max paused on the other side of the door, sighing and audibly shifting his weight onto his other foot. “Do you wanna talk?”

“About what?”

“Don’t ‘about what’ me! About what just happened.”

Isaac shrugged, even though he knew Max couldn’t see it, turning his gaze to his bed. The memories hit him again, of the one kiss they’d shared, but as usual he shook them off. He heard Max sigh again. “I’m coming in.”

“Good luck, the door’s locked-!” Isaac trailed off as the door inched open anyway, Max standing on the other side with a key swinging at his wrist. He was frowning, like usual, but there was a glint in his eyes that suggested his anger was a little more real than most days. Isaac gaped up at him, looking between the door and him, probably making noises that could have been words if he’d tried hard enough to get them out.

Max stuck the key in his pocket. “I kept it around in case your ex ever started getting rapey while I was here.”

“That’s an invasion of my privacy!”

“You wanna talk about invasions of privacy?” Max animatedly pointed and gestured to the end of the hallway where the living room was. “That was an invasion of privacy!”

“You were on the couch! Don’t act like I waltzed into your room and just watched you fuck some guy I’ve never met while I sat there drinking a pina colada!”

Max’s face lit up like Christmas lights, pale before slowly fading to a bright red. “We didn’t even have sex!”

“Good! I was worried you’d get crabs!”

“Holy shit, Isaac! He wasn’t- oh my god, what is your problem?”

Isaac shifted so that he could stand up easily, but he was still wobbly when he came to his feet. Probably just tired. He placed a hand on his bed to keep from falling over. “My problem, Maxwell-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“-is that you have a key to my bedroom, I want to be alone, and you were just trying to get busy with some aids-riddled man-whore on a couch we both sit on!”

“Why do you assume he has something? As I recall, you’re the one who slept with your cheating ex for years! If there’s anyone in this house that’s got something, it’s you!”

“Is that why you won’t kiss me?”

They both faltered, eyes wide as they struggled to catch up with what’d just been said. It really wasn’t meant to come out that way. He didn’t mean to demonize Max for not wanting to be with him, because that was egocentric and stupid and mean and unfair, but that anger had just swelled in his chest unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He’d just said it. He didn’t even think. Isaac swallowed hard and rubbed his arm, keeping his head down. “I, um, got checked out, actually. I- I don’t. I don’t have anything- um, maybe I should just go spend the night at Isabel’s or something. You know, let you two have privacy.”

“He left.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be, I asked him to.” Max leaned against the door-frame, arms crossed. He wasn’t avoiding eye-contact the way Isaac was. In fact, his stare was very, hair-raisingly focused. “I wasn’t going to really do anything with him, anyway.”

“Yeah, I know. I stayed out there for like, probably twenty minutes just to cock-block you.”

“No, not because of that” Max raised an eyebrow “though it didn’t help. I just don’t think I liked him like that.”

Isaac laughed and finally brought his eyes to meet Max’s. With a small smile, he gestured to the door. “So um,” he felt so damn uncomfortable “could we maybe continue this conversation tomorrow? I’m kind of tired.”

“Sure,” Max shrugged. “Probably not gonna be much of a conversation, though.”

“I mean, okay?” Isaac narrowed his eyes. “I think there’s a lot I need to explain on my end?”

Max paused, seemed confused, then he just looked comedically disappointed. “Isaac- that’s not- what I was…” He shook his head and smiled, gaze almost softening, if it wasn’t Isaac’s imagination “How did you date that asshole and stay so damn innocent?”

“What? Was that a joke?”

“No. I meant” Max pushed off the wall and came to stand in front of him, close enough that Isaac tried to back up. “That we won’t be talking much because we’ll be busy doing other things.”

Isaac felt his cheeks heat up, realizing in the back of his mind that Max’s face was very much the same shade. He glanced between Max and the bed, not necessarily trying to imply anything, since there were already too many implications flying around for Isaac to handle, but Max laughed from his stomach anyway, as if Isaac’s unasked question was way funnier than he’d expected. “I mean, not right away! My god! But” he grabbed Isaac’s elbow and pulled him closer, small smile turning as mischievous as the stranger’s had been. “I think I owe you an explanation, too.”

Isaac frowned and glanced away from Max and away from the bed. “Am I going to like what I hear or…?”

“Eh, probably. Maybe not, but I think you’ll understand.”


	7. Chapter 7

Isaac was pissed- irrationally, without hope of calming down. He’d spent months- fucking months- thinking that Max wanted nothing to do with him. He walked around the same space, every day, with Max, honestly believing there was nothing there for them. Somewhere along the line, he wasn’t crying in his sleep because Sonofabitch cheated on him. No, he was wide awake for days or weeks at a time because he thought his fucking soulmate wanted nothing to do with him or his stupid feelings. He felt like a little bitch for- close to, if not over- six goddamn months, just because of his fucking roommate with his fucking stupid jokes and his even more fucking stupid face and his fucking voice and fuck everything about Max, fucking hell!

To sit there on a bar stool in the kitchen and hear from Max, as he flipped pancakes, that Max was actually just as head-over-heels for him, was to sit there and hear he’d been moping around for half a goddamn year for no reason. To make things worse- it was all because Max thought he couldn’t handle a relationship? “You better be fucking kidding me, Max. I swear to fuck I will bend over this counter and-”

“Careful, Ginger Sprinkles. You bent over anything is kind of a fantasy of mine.”

“Oh my god!”

Isaac stood up from the stool and wandered around their living room, tugging viciously at his hair and swearing under his breath. “Because you thought I couldn’t fucking handle it? I’m a fucking adult, you asshole!”

Max tittered and flipped the first pancake onto one of their plastic plates, reaching for the metal bowl and wooden spoon, pouring more batter into the ready frying pan. “You and I both know you were pretty messed up when we met.”

“When we met! Are you telling me I haven’t changed?”

“I’m telling you that you haven’t recovered.” The playfulness in Max’s tone was finally falling flat, leaving him sounding just as irritated as Isaac felt. “You’re in no place to be with me right now.”

“Wha-?” Isaac growled and balled his fists at his sides. “No place? Are you kidding me? I was independent, like, three months ago!”

“But would you be if I wasn’t here?” Max flipped another finished pancake onto the plate, spraying more butter and pouring more batter. It was becoming more like something to keep his hands busy than the preparation of a meal. Isaac usually saw him flip the pancakes with an unmatched grace to his movements, but there was none of that in the way he was preparing them then. “Honestly, Isaac. If you and I started dating tomorrow, could you honestly tell me you wouldn’t worry that I was cheating on you?”

“No I fucking wouldn’t!” He kicked Max’s abandoned sweater off the floor and into the air, watching as it fell a few inches away. Memories of the curly blonde stranger Max had almost been with the night before eased into his mind like a landing plane, but he waved it off with the big flashing red lights that was his uncontrolled wrath. He was too angry to get bitter about something that didn’t even happen. “I trust you!”

“So if I had to go away on a business trip,” Max turned around and leaned against the edge of the stove, just enough that he wouldn’t catch his clothes on fire like he’d managed to do thrice in the time they’d been living together. “You’re telling me, you wouldn’t accuse me of sleeping with my coworker?”

“No!”

“Even if we had to share the same room?”

“No, I wouldn’t!”

Max sighed and shook his head, turning his back on Isaac to open the fridge and pull out the pancake topping necessities. “Isaac, I don’t think you’re ready yet, so I’m not going to do this!”

 

Thinking about it did little else but infuriate Isaac, so much so that Isaac left the house with nothing but his cellphone and earplugs. Maybe, with a little space, he could see Max’s point of view and, as such, prove to him why he was so incredibly wrong. He leaned back in his seat, staring out the window past the large picture of a cappuccino plastered on the front. Isaac stuck one hand in his pocket and used the other to navigate through the playlist he had booming in his ears.

He wanted to focus on the relief he felt knowing that Max wanted to be with him, he wanted to so badly, but knowing why they weren’t already together was way too vein-bursting to focus on the good. There was something just so enraging about being thought of as incapable of a relationship. Was Max right? He would have been six months ago- Isaac couldn’t have differentiated love from gratefulness had he tried. The present, though? In the present, Isaac knew damn well what he was feeling. He was in love with Max Puckett and he was confident enough to not freak out every time they were separated for one reason or another. If Max had willpower strong enough to deal with weepy depressed Isaac for half a year, then he sure as hell wasn’t the type to have a side fling on an off day.

There was a buzzing from his phone, the tell-tale sign of a new message blinking up at him from where his cell laid on the table. He raised an eyebrow and opened his phone, pulling the top bar down to see who the message was from and just how important it was.

_Work._

He sighed and pressed a light finger to the envelope icon, tapping it open. _This better be worth it…_

Isaac read the message over- once, twice, maybe seven times before he realized exactly what the message was asking of him. It wasn’t so much a demand as it was…

 

“A business opportunity?”

“For Jeff and I, yeah.” Isaac watched Max scroll through the message, soft lips thin with either concentration or annoyance. He was standing at the door of Max’s bedroom, leaning against the door with his arms crossed over his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was a show of confidence or the exact opposite, considering the distracting pulse in his chest. “We’ll be flying out to the NYC for a few weeks, you know, to close up a few deals, hopefully.”

“Okay, and?” Max sat up in bed, tossing Isaac’s phone to the foot of his mattress as his own lazy effort to return it. Isaac reached out and slipped it back into his pocket. “You’re going to accept it?”

“Yep!”

Max’s eyes lit up, an uncharacteristically large smile stretching across his face. “Then congrats! It sounds like you’re finally moving up in the business, man!”

When Isaac didn’t move from the hallway, Max’s face fell. It was as though he was growing suspicious- which he should have been. There was, after all, a little more to the story than just a business opportunity. “What?”

Isaac felt a smile tugging at his lips, but he bit it down. If this was going to work, he needed to make sure Max knew he was serious. “That means you’re gonna be alone here, and Cody’s going to be alone at their place.”

“And?”

“I’ve also heard that Cody thinks you’re hot.”

Max raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowing as he tried to soak up whatever it was he thought Isaac was implying. He could see the wheels in his brain turning, even under the baseball cap. “Okay…? What, do you think I’m gonna try something? Because this is exactly what we were talking about earlier-!”

“So I was thinking that while I’m in New York, Cody could move in here for a while.” Isaac didn’t want to hear where Max was going with that, let alone acknowledge it and let it become an argument. He had bigger things to focus on, rather than let some stupid hypothetical fight fester.

“What? Why?”

Isaac’s smirk stretched so far that it was from ear-to-ear. He probably looked so cool, being in the position of power right then. Isaac crossed his ankles, shrugging and glancing away as nonchalantly as he could manage. “I just figured, you know, that if you can live with Cody for the three weeks we’ll be gone, without sleeping with him, and I can keep from accusing you of sleeping with him, then that’ll prove that I’m able to trust you.”

Max blinked, looked at the floor, looked back at him, blinked again, shook his head, and exclaimed “You are fucking crazy! You can’t seriously think-? Isaac, that’s just crazy!”

“Is it, though?”

“Yes!”

“Because if you and I can do this, then we can actually,” Isaac shrugged, rubbing the side of his nose in what was probably a poor effort to hide the heat creeping up his neck. “We can actually be something, you know?”

Max pulled his legs onto the bed and crossed them, leaning back on his arms and grimacing at every word Isaac said. Isaac was starting to think it’d been a horrible idea, especially to bring up when he and Max were already sitting on the fence about what they were gonna be. What if just suggesting such arrangements was going to bury Max’s interest five foot underground? He bit back a cold shiver. No, Max wasn’t that fickle. He wasn’t going to let whatever lingering insecurities he arguably had get him anxious. “Will Cody and Jeff be in on it?”

“Yeah.”

“So there won’t be any hurt feelings on Cody’s part if nothing happens between us?”

“He just got out of a relationship, from what Jeff told me. He’s not looking to do anything but hook up.”

Max paused, glanced around the room, glowered at nothing in particular, then sighed and looked back at Isaac. “So what happens if we make it all three weeks?”

Isaac blinked at Max, who had let his frown fall into a small, concerned, pursed circle. He parted from the door and inched his way onto the bed, on top of Max. Isaac pressed their foreheads together, savoring the heat of the hand under his own. Max made a small noise, but otherwise didn’t fight him. He glanced up at Isaac’s impish smile with wide eyes. “Then when I come back, we will make intense, passionate, sincere love to each-other and deal with the consequences later.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know it says there'll only be three chapters, but these are all one-shots in the same universe in chronological order (probably), so this fic will be updated as people request more one-shots of it.


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